


Wisdom Teeth

by skeletondust



Series: Final Fantasy XV: Moments In Time [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Wisdom Teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 20:18:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8547736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeletondust/pseuds/skeletondust
Summary: Prompto has to get his wisdom teeth removed, but he has no one to look after him. Not being able to do it himself, Noctis convinces Ignis to take care of his friend for the day. Ignis is not looking forward to it.





	

 {Highness}: Is Prompto out of surgery yet?

 {Ignis}: No. They said the procedure would take at least an hour.

 {Highness}: How long has it been?

 {Ignis}: Twenty minutes.

 {Highness}: Text me when he gets out.

 {Ignis}: Of course.

 {Highness}: And when he stops acting loopy.

 {Ignis}: Shall I just keep you updated on everything?

 {Highness}: Please.

 {Ignis}: Very well.

 

 Ignis resisted the urge to sigh. He still wasn’t entirely sure how he had been convinced to do this, wasting his entire day looking after someone he barely knew. The soft spot Gladiolus so often claimed he had for the young prince may have been to blame, but in his own defense, the prince had been quite worried about his friend. It would have been considerably rude to have said ‘no’ to his request, even if he was justified in it.

 So here he was, sitting in the oppressively small waiting room of an oral surgeon's office, all because Prompto Argentum needed someone who was _technically_ an adult to escort him home and care for him after having his wisdom teeth removed.

 Locking his phone and putting it carefully back in his pocket, Ignis returned to his book. He could barely finish a paragraph before his eyes were drifting to the clock situated above the doorway of the ugly beige room.

 1:25.

 Approximately thirty-five more minutes, if they didn’t run into any complications. He allowed himself to sigh this time, just to relieve the tension of boredom in his chest. Not even his favorite book could distract him enough to cause time to flow faster. Defeated, he closed the novel and instead grabbed one of the copious magazines that were piled on the coffee tables. Perhaps something with visual stimulus would be better, even if it was filled to the brim with idiocy.

 The clock ticked the seconds by slowly and noisily. Ignis stuck to looking through the cooking magazines, not wishing to feel his brain cells die from the sheer stupidity of the tabloid articles. He took pictures of the recipes that sounded good, wanting to try them out later. He very actively ignored the other two people in the room, two middle-aged women who kept glancing at him, obviously wondering why he was there. Occasionally, he would send them each a look to kill their whispers for a few moments.

 “Mr… Scientia?” A nurse stood with a clipboard in the door, smiling politely. “Is that correct?”

 Ignis nodded, standing up from his seat. The clock read 2:06. “Yes, that is.”

 “Okay. Well, Mr. Scientia, your friend’s out of surgery,” she said. “He’s in the recovery room and should be awake enough for you to get him home soon. If you would follow me, please?”

 He nodded again. Placing down the magazine and grabbing his own book, he followed behind the nurse. He didn’t bring up the fact that ‘friend’ wasn’t exactly the right word to use for them. They only knew each other through Noctis. At the very most, they were acquaintances through association.

 The nurse stopped at an open door and stepped out of the way to let Ignis through first. Prompto was sat on a recovery bed, using the back of it to hold himself up. Long strips of gauze hung out of his already swelling mouth. His usually stylized hair stuck up where it had been pushed out of the way, and his bright blue eyes were bleary, dull, and confused. It was highly unusual to see the bouncy, excitable teenager in this state.

 “Ignis!” Prompto exclaimed when he saw the older man, reaching an eager hand towards him. His speech was horribly muffled by the gauze and he had difficulty even with just the two syllables. “They put- they put stuff in my mouf! An’- an’ they won’t lemme take it out!”

 “It’s gauze, Prompto,” Ignis explained. “It’s helping to stem the flow of blood from your gums.”

 The blonde gasped with shock. He held his hands on his puffed up cheeks. “I’m bleeding!?”

 “You’ve just had your wisdom teeth removed. Of course you’re bleeding.”

 “He’s going to be confused and a bit loopy for a while,” The nurse said, catching Ignis’s attention. He already knew this information but it was her job to repeat it, so he listened. “It should wear off in about forty-five minutes, maybe an hour. He’s not going to feel very good afterwards.”

 She took something off of her clipboard, a piece of paper which she handed to him. “Here’s his prescription. A week’s supply of ibuprofen-” Prompto visibly cringed at the word, “-as well as a week’s supply of oxycodone, but he should only take that if the ibuprofen isn’t working. There’s his antibiotics, too, and since his stomach medicine doesn’t mix well with those, the doctor has prescribed something else to help combat his stomachaches. You can pick all this up from the pharmacy at any time.”

 “Yes, thank you,” Ignis replied, pushing a polite smile onto his face.

 She nodded with a much more real smile. She handed him a few more papers, pamphlets this time. “These have all the information you need to know about the healing process. Make sure to read them carefully and follow them to the word. Anyway, give him a few more minutes to wake up and then you two can go home!”

 “Of course.”

 “Prompto?” The blonde looked up at her. “Would you like anything to drink?”

 “Uh?” He blinked. “Um.”

 “I think just a water should suffice,” Ignis replied for him.

 “Okay. Could you take out the gauze while I go get it?”

 The nurse left the room before he could respond. Again he wondered why he had agreed to do this. It was beyond his job description.

 “Prompto, open your mouth, please,” He asked, keeping his tone as deadpan as possible.

 The blonde stared for a moment, but opened his mouth the little that he could manage. Ignis grabbed the ends of the gauze that were sticking out of his mouth, quickly dropping the bloodied things onto a nearby table with disgust. He may have had plethora of medical knowledge, but that did not mean he found spit and blood any less repulsive.

 It was barely a moment later that the nurse walked back in. She handed Ignis a plastic bag with gauze, properly sized for sitting in someone’s mouth, in it, and gave Prompto a small cup of water.

 “Alright! You boys are all set to leave whenever he’s up for it,” She declared.

 “Thank you,” Ignis said.

 She nodded one final time and left again.

 Prompto tried to bring the cup to his lips. He tried, but his grogginess made his limbs clumsy and shaky, and he ended up spilling some of the water on his pants. He let out a little huff as he began to tear up, frustrated and confused. Ignis frowned, further unnerved at seeing the younger male so upset. He carefully put a hand around his on the cup, placing the other on his arm, and helped him drink. When he finished, Ignis added the empty cup to the table with the gauze, and picked up everything the nurse had handed him. He gave Prompto two fresh pieces of gauze, which he fortunately managed to place himself.

 “Are you ready to get going?” He softened his tone, somewhat fearful of upsetting the blonde while he was in such a state.

 “Go where?” He asked, looking at the older man with innocent eyes.

 “Home, Prompto.”

 “Oh! Yeah. Okay.”

 Getting him to the car wasn’t as difficult as Ignis had anticipated. He knew that people could be largely uncooperative while anesthesia was still in their system-- case and point being his royal pain-in-the-ass a few months prior when he had had his own teeth out. However, the only challenge with Prompto was his inability to walk straight. He kept an arm around his shoulders to guide him away from walls, and warned him whenever they reached a step so that he wouldn’t trip. It didn’t help when he tripped over his own feet, but the few interactions they had reassured Ignis that that was just the way he was; clumsy with two left feet.

 Getting him into the car wasn’t an issue, either. Prompto stood in one spot until Ignis opened the passenger’s side door for him, and sat down in the seat with obvious relief, the walk having taken him effort. He even buckled the seatbelt himself, once again differing from the way the prince had behaved. Ignis closed the door carefully so as to not startle the boy, before getting in his own seat and beginning the drive back to the pharmacy and then to Prompto’s apartment.

 It was quiet as they drove. Prompto stared dazedly out the window, mesmerized by the passing city buildings, despite having seen them nearly everyday since his birth. Ignis focused on the road, paying close attention to the streets so that he didn’t miss a turn.

 He was surprised, in all honesty. Although he hadn’t been the only one to watch after the prince when he had had his teeth removed, it had still been ridiculous to get him to cooperate. He had thought that Prompto would be similar, or even worse, considering his excitable personality. His assumptions had been wrong, but it was pleasant to be wrong in this case.

 Prompto blinked and lifted his head off of the car window when they pulled into the pharmacy parking lot, his distraction broken with new lack of movement.

 “I’m going to pick up your medication. Please wait here,” Ignis answered the unspoken and possibly unthought question. The tired and upset look he received tugged down the corner of his mouth.

 “I don’t wanna be alone!”

 “I’ll be gone for no more than five minutes,” he reassured. “I promise.”

 Prompto tipped his head to the side. He seemed unable to lift it back up, so he returned to leaning on the window, looking defeated.

 Ignis couldn’t shake a feeling of guilt while he waited in line. Leaving the teenager in the car wasn’t anything criminal, but it felt close enough. It was ridiculous, really. He shook his head and took out his phone, deciding to update the prince as he had said he would do.

 

 {Ignis}: We’ve left the oral surgeon’s office. Prompto is still somewhat out of it but is fairing well enough.

 {Highness}: Well enough?

 {Ignis}: He’s upset, confused, and tired, but otherwise fine.

 {Highness}: Okay, that’s good, I guess. Is he giving you any trouble?

 {Ignis}: No. He is largely cooperative, unlike a certain prince I know was like when he was in the same situation.

 {Highness}: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 {Ignis}: I’m picking up his medication before we return to his apartment.

 {Highness}: Okay.

 {Highness}: Gtg. Keep me updated on anything that happens.

 {Ignis}: Of course. Enjoy your meetings.

 {Highness}: As if.

 

 He put his phone back into his pocket just in time. He was at the counter already, a depressed-looking pharmacist staring at him, obviously wanting to go home. He related, somewhat.

 “Hello, how can I help you?” Her voice was completely flat.

 “Prescription for Prompto Argentum.” Ignis’s voice was equally as flat. He handed the first paper the nurse had given him to the pharmacist, who looked at it for a grand total of three seconds before grabbing the crinkly paper bag and rattling off a list of medicines. She passed it over the counter with Ignis’s agreement at its content.

 “It’s covered by insurance.”

 He didn’t bother to thank her. She didn’t seem to care. He left almost gladly. No interaction in his life had been more awkward, not even his first meeting with Prompto.

 The blonde still had his head against the window. He seemed half awake, and was shivering quite a lot, though he didn’t appear to notice himself.

 “Prompto,” Ignis said as he got back into the car. “If you’re cold, I can turn the heat up higher.” He didn’t feel it was necessarily, as despite it being December the temperature was at a tolerable level if you remembered to bundle up, but until the following day his concerns laid on the person in his passenger's seat.

 “Huh?” Prompto lifted his head up, looking blearily over. There was a bit of bloodied drool on his chin which Ignis tried to ignore.

 “Goodness,” He exclaimed quietly. “Are you cold? You’re shivering.”

 He shook his head and immediately cringed, having aggravated his jaw. His attention turned away from the sudden pain a second later when something dawned on him.

 “You lef’ me alone!” He accused, clearly having forgotten their conversation ten minutes ago.

 “Yes, I did, so that I could get your medicine.” He held up the crinkly bag for a second and then set it down.

 “Oh.”

 “Oh, indeed.”

 The last fifteen minutes of the drive were mostly quiet. Prompto once again returned his head to the window, shivering still, although he didn’t seem to be cold. Ignis supposed it was just a side effect of the anesthetic wearing off, especially since the boy was growing more exhausted by the minute and kept making whining noises as he poked at his swollen jaw. At one point he began lamenting about chocobos, saying how much he loved them but how sad it was he had never ridden one, let alone seen or petted one. He didn’t stop talking about them until they reached the apartment complex. Ignis wondered if he had seen a billboard or some other form of advertisement for a farm or some children’s show.

 With his exhaustion on top of the slowly fading anesthesia, it took extra effort to get Prompto into his apartment. Rather than just needing to guide him away from walls, Ignis had to keep his arm firmly around the teenager’s shoulders so that he didn’t fall flat on his face from tripping over nothing. Fortunately, there was only one five-step flight of stairs that they had to walk up, leading from the parking garage. After struggling to unlock the front door, the two gladly went inside, Prompto dropping onto the couch while Ignis surveyed his surroundings.

 The place was small and terribly cramped. The kitchen, dining room, and living room were all interconnected, carpet giving way directly to tile, not even a sliver of a wall separating them. Excluding the three doors that must have led to the bedrooms and the bathroom-- which were presumably even smaller and more cramped than the main room-- the entire apartment was about the size of one of the walk-in closets at the palace. It was only made worse with the furniture making nearly impossible to not bump into something with every single step. How could anyone stand living with such restrictive space? He understood that these buildings were made with the idea of fitting as many people as possible into a limited area, but the lack of room to move in was incredibly frustrating. Perhaps it was just his privileged upbringing, but it made very little sense, outside of it having some level of practicality.

 Ignis removed his coat and shoes before properly entering the living space. He placed the medicine and papers on the kitchen counter, deciding to rifle through the cabinets to see what there was, and if any of it was safe to eat after having teeth removed. Two of the cabinets contained plates, bowls, and glasses that appeared to be barely used, save for a few that had clear wear on them, and one that had been glued back together. The rest of the cabinets were mostly barren, except for the one that contained all of the junk food. The refrigerator was also largely empty, though there were a few pre-packaged salads and a container of leftovers. It was pitiful, in his mind, to have such a small selection of food, even if the apartment only had one occupant.

 With a small shake of his head, Ignis closed the refrigerator door and went back into the living room area. Prompto was slouched down on his couch, staring inattentively at whatever he had managed to put on on the television. His shoes and coat were thrown on the floor at his feet. The scene was a dreary one, with the miserable teenager sitting in the barely lit, messy room. The atmosphere came off as terribly lonely.

 “Prompto,” Ignis said calmly. The boy's head turned to look at him with wide, significantly less confused eyes. “Perhaps you’d like some light in the room?”

 “Oh, uh, okay. Yeah,” he answered tiredly.

 He flicked on the lights and kindly put away the discarded clothing. If this were any normal day, he would have made him clean up after himself. However, it would be exceptionally rude to make someone in his state do much of anything. He wasn’t so reluctant to help out anymore, but he knew it was still going to be long night anyway.

 Looking once again at Prompto, Ignis couldn’t help but note the newer, pained expression on his face.

 “Maybe it’s time for you to take some ibuprofen, considering the anesthesia seems to be wearing off.” Prompto visibly shrank with some kind of dread. “Is your jaw still numb?”

 “Yeah.”

 Walking back towards the kitchen, Ignis glanced at the boy, giving him a look he usually only reserved for Noctis. “Don’t lie, now.”

 Prompto let out a defeated sigh and patted one of his swelled cheeks. “I don’t wanna take ibuprofen. Makes me feel gross.”

 “So you’d rather be in pain?”

 Another sigh. “No.”

 He smirked. “Then you’ll be taking the ibuprofen, and perhaps your antibiotics and that other medicine. Best to be taken with food.”

 “Puddin’s on th’ top shelf.”

 A few moments later, Ignis returned to the living room, which was barely big enough to even be considered that. He placed a glass of water, two cups of pudding, a spoon, a few pieces of paper towel, and the bag containing fresh gauze on the old coffee table. Prompto took the old, bloodied gauze out of his mouth and placed them on one of the paper towel sheets. Taking the pills from Ignis, he swallowed all four at once with a sip of the water as though he were used to doing it. Considering the nurse’s earlier mention of stomachaches and medicine, it wasn’t much of a jump to conclude he was, in fact, used to taking pills.

 Ignis settled into a spot on the couch, expecting he could read while Prompto enjoyed whatever colorful cartoon it was that he had taken interest in. He soon realized he had left his book in the car. Not particularly wanting to venture back into the cold, even if it wasn’t horrendously cold out, he resigned himself to watching television as well. He wasn’t entirely sure what was on; Something about women who called themselves ‘gems’ and had to raise and train a half-gem boy. It was strange to say the least, but well written and well executed, so despite his lack of knowledge on it, it was a generally enjoyable show.

 Barely half a cup of pudding was gone before Prompto placed it back down on the coffee table. His face was twisted up in a grimace, or as much of a grimace he could manage with the swelling. After putting in new pieces of gauze, he curled up in his seat, staring at the television, his arms wrapped around his stomach.

 “Are you alright?” Ignis asked, a little concerned. He knew ibuprofen had a side effect of nausea, but he hadn’t expected it to act so quickly. Perhaps it had something to do with whatever stomach problems the teenager naturally had.

 Prompto responded with a noise somewhere between a huff and a groan. Ignis patted him on the shoulder, although a little hesitantly.

 “May I ask what the nurse meant by your stomachaches?”

 “W-” Prompto sat back up, but still slouched. “Why are you asking if you can ask a question? Dude, you don’t need to be formal with me.”

 “Apologies. It’s a habit.” He lived around people that required constant formality. It was impossible to break him of the habit. Noctis and Gladiolus had both tried on many occasions, failing each time.

 “I have a digestive disorder,” He answered. “It _sucks_.”

 “I can imagine.”

 “No, you can’t,” The blonde insisted. “It’s an ‘experience’ thing.”

 They managed to make simple, quiet conversation for a while. Ignis did most of the talking, of course, as the other couldn’t exactly move his jaw too much. It was something nice, though, and made Ignis think. He had never had much interaction with the boy, outside of a few moments here-and-there when Noctis had been spending time with him. He had always thought him to be uncultured, idiotic, and a terrible influence. He may not have been the best influence on the prince all of the time, nor did he have the precise manners and knowledge of those raised in royalty, but Prompto Argentum was _far_ from an uncultured idiot. He was clumsy, a bit ridiculous at times, and not exactly book smart, but he understood people and he was kind. An overall _good_ influence, despite some lapses in judgement on what is and is not proper behavior. First impressions meant nothing, it would seem.

 It was nearing six when Prompto began to really quiet down, barely responding to Ignis’s questions and statements. It had been dark out for a good two hours already. He figured he was just growing tired, or at least more so than he had been before. It was when he finally looked over at him that he noticed how pale he was, how much his previous grimace had worsened.

 “Prom-”

 He didn’t even get to finish the word. Prompto lurched forward, vomiting onto the floor and Ignis’s pants. He gagged for a few moments, dry heaving the nothingness left in his stomach. When it was done he gasped in a breath, breathing heavily for a few moments before letting out a whimper. Ignis, somewhere between disgust and sympathy, gently rubbed the boy’s back.

 “I’m sorry,” Prompto whined, tears welling up in his eyes, too tired to keep any sort of control over his emotions.

 “It’s alright, really,” Ignis said softly. “Was it the ibuprofen or your digestive problems?”

 “I dunno. Both?”

 “It’s alright. Come on, time to get cleaned up.” He helped him stand, leading the teenager over to the small bathroom. “You clean yourself up, carefully brush your teeth and use the mouthwash that came with your prescription. I’ll bring you some pajamas.”

 “What about you?”

 “Oh, well, I brought my own pajamas. I’ll get them from the car in a minute.”

 He started by grabbing new clothes for Prompto. The only things that appeared to be clean were an almost completely faded t-shirt and a fuzzy pair of sweatpants with baby chocobos printed on them. Perfect sleepwear, he supposed.

 He grabbed his own clothing changed quickly once Prompto was done, and just as quickly cleaned the mess in the living room. The apartment soon smelled like lemon-scented cleaner fluid.

 “There. All set.” Ignis washed his hands in the kitchen.

 Prompto hadn’t gone to sit back down yet. He still stood awkwardly near the bathroom door, looking unsure of what to do.

 “I’m sorry,” He said again.

 With a sigh, the older man made his own way back to the couch, returning to his same spot as before. “There is no need to apologize for this, Prompto. It wasn’t as though you did it on purpose. That would have taken an incredible amount of effort that I’m sure you don’t have the energy for.”

 It was a stupid joke, but it did the job in getting the boy to sit down. He leaned his head on the advisor’s shoulder, much to Ignis’s own surprise. Well, he had been warned that Prompto tended to get a bit clingy.

 “No. I’m sorry you had to spend your day looking after me,” He insisted. “Usually, I just look after myself.”

 “Well, you couldn’t very well do that today,” Ignis politely retaliated. He couldn’t help but detect some small amount of self-loathing in his words. “Couldn’t expect Noctis to look after you, either. The prince is a bit clueless in matters such as these.”

 Prompto snorted. “Yeah. He’s better suited for politics.”

 It was quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from the television and the occasional car driving by the building.

 “Iggy?”

 He was taken aback by the sudden usage of a new nickname. He had never actually had a nickname before. He pushed back his minor amount of shock. “Yes?”

 “You’re pretty cool.”

 That was the last thing Prompto said before falling asleep. It was somewhat awkward to have the boy asleep on his shoulder, but he supposed it could have been worse. He could have had the royal brat throwing pillows at him once again. He would much rather this over that.

 Soon enough, he found himself drifting. It wasn’t long until his eyes drooped closed and his head fell to the soft back cushion of the couch.

 

~~~~~

 

 A key rattled in the lock, and Noctis pushed open the apartment door, quickly closing it behind him. He had gotten out of his meetings-- which were technically his dad’s, as he was only there to learn-- a lot earlier than he had expected. Still, it was nearing midnight, and it was almost miracle that he had convinced his dad to let him go check on his friends. A little guilt trip never hurt anyone.

 The lights were still on, which really wasn’t a shock. What was, however, was Prompto and Ignis, two people who he had never thought to get along, leaned against each other on the couch, both fast asleep.

 He smiled. So everything had turned out alright. As quietly as he could, Noctis snuck around the tiny apartment. He turned off the TV and the lights, only leaving the kitchen light on in case one of them woke up. He grabbed a blanket from Prompto’s room and draped it over the two sleeping figures. He carefully moved hair out of Prompto’s eyes, and took Ignis’s glasses off of his face, setting them down on the coffee table.

“Goodnight, you dorks,” He whispered, gently closing the front door as he left.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please tell me what you think!
> 
> ~Mel


End file.
